Pure gift



It’s pure gift. All of it.
I don’t always have the eyes and clarity to see it as such. But sometimes, in this rare sparkling days in the sun, I do.

We are at the beach,still. Visiting family this weekend, intensively. My oldest dear friend, a sister, really, has come down to visit and hang out with us. My sister and her three big boys plus one of their lifelong buddies has come, her husband arrives today. My folks even came up and we had a loud big old crazy beach supper. The big boys are so physically large, just big ol’ men, that they take up enormous space in this tiny old simple condo. Six of them sprawling around. Plus of course, the rest of my not small at all clan. And then my sister and I, handing out plates of salad and slices of pizza, reaching over heads and across sunburned backs as bbig guys forage for more. My dear friend tells stories of us as girls, making my boys laugh at me, my folks embellishing to hoots. I worry about how Marta will handle the commotion but she does fine; she withdraws to the balcony for a few minutes here and there for a breather, then comes back in and sits near, then goes and laughs at the big boys antics. Big guys head out to surf and ride waves, again, its dusk, we all watch, footballs are thrown, we stay on the beach until the tourists (I know, that is us, but this feels like home too, so we don’t count ourselves as such) go home and the cold chases us in. Finally, my folks make their goodbyes for the night, my sis and sis head down to stay at my folks house…big boys go to call girlfriends and walk into town for ice cream. I tuck small sandy boys into eternally sandy beds.

I wake first; pad around the house picking up stray shirts, flip flops, legos, sunglasses. I make another pot of strong coffee. I go out and gaze at the empty beach, tide low. And I breath deep and whisper a prayer of thanksgiving, my entire self twinges with gratitude for this time.

It is time out of time. It is gift. I’m taking pics, but more, I’m searing it into my heart and soul and memory as best as I am able.

Thank you tom for making this happen. We are all missing you and Hannah. But it is oure gift. Every moment. I feel a touch guilty for not seeing my other friends who live near (sorry Clyde) but this is what this time is. It is time to imprint all of this, it’s a special weekend. My nose keeps twitching here and there, feeling the tears press in suddenly….I’m outing them back and instead choosing the grinning sparkly skittly joy of it (yes, Courtney, skittley). Gabey just woke, he pads iver and snuggles next to me, then he’s up and checking out the ocean. He turns to me and says, “Can you believe Nancy is coming back today?” Yup. She is, they all are. It’s gift. Every sandy salty funny loud messy moment of it.
It glitters.




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